The wounded soldier who lay on the stretcher had both
legs broken and held in place with a rifle splint; he also had a
bayonet tourniquet round the thick of his arm. The poor fellow was (p. 206)
in great agony. The broken bones were touching one another at every
move. Now and again he spoke and his question was always the same:
"Are we near the dressing station yet?"

That night I slept in the trench, slept heavily. I put my equipment
under me, that kept the damp away from my bones. In the morning Stoner
told an amusing story. During the night he wanted to see Bill, but did
not know where the Cockney slept.

"Where's Bill?" he said.

"Bill," I replied, speaking though asleep.

"Bill, yes," said Stoner.

"Bill," I muttered turning on my side, seeking a more comfortable
position.

"Do you know where Bill is?" shouted Stoner.

"Bill!" I repeated again.

"Yes, Bill!" he said, "Bill. B-i-double l, Bill. Where is here?"

"He's here," I said getting to my feet and holding out my water
bottle. "In here." And I pulled out the cork.

I was twitted about this all day. I remembered nothing of the incident
of the water bottle although in some vague way I recollected (p. 207)
Stoner asking me about Bill.

On the following day I had a chance of visiting the scene of the
conflict. All the wounded were now carried away, only the dead
remained, as yet unburied.

The men were busy in the trench which lay on the summit of a slope;
the ground dipped in the front and rear. The field I came across was
practically "dead ground" as far as rifle fire was concerned. Only one
place, the wire front of the original German trench, was dangerous.
This was "taped out" as our boys say, by some hidden sniper. Already
the parados was lined with newly-made firing positions, that gave the
sentry view of the German trench some forty or fifty yards in front.
All there was very quiet now but our men were making every preparation
for a counter attack. The Engineers had already placed some barbed
wire down; they had been hard at it the night before; I could see the
hastily driven piles, the loosely flung intricate lines of wire flung
down anyhow. The whole work was part of what is known as
"consolidation of our position."

Many long hours of labour had yet to be expended on the trench (p. 208)
before a soldier could sleep at ease in it. Now that the fighting had
ceased for a moment the men had to bend their backs to interminable
fatig